I Need You So Much Closer
by Kohana-Umeko
Summary: Modern AU in which Jean and Marco work at the same bar. Jean being a musician, and Marco being a waiter. Will their friendship blossom into something more? (fluff in later chapters)
1. Prologue

Jean drummed his fingers against the surface of the wooden bar in annoyance, idly scanning the faces of each person in the room. He wasn't sure why he had taken this job in the first place, which was performing music for a local bar in town. The pay was shit, he rarely got to play, and the hours were unfair. Franz, the man who ran the bar, made up for his lack of performance by using him as a busboy. Jean had argued with him about this more than once, reminding him that his job was, in fact, to play music for the audience, _not _to wipe down filthy tables and act as a stand in waiter when someone was a no show. But, despite how many times he stressed this, the answer was always the same: "You're _my_ employee, and I will use you how I see fit. Don't like it? Find another job."

Jean scowled at the thought, glaring at a person that had caught his wandering gaze. They quickly broke eye contact, resuming their meal. _Yeah_, he thought bitterly, _that's what I thought_.

As much as Jean hated to admit it, he was in no position to be storming out of this job in a rage, finally quitting after threatening it so many times before. He had dropped out of high school earlier on, claiming that it wasn't his thing. Though he absolutely resented the fact that he had done so, wishing that he had held on just awhile longer and made something out of his life. He probably still could, but he was way too proud and stubborn to even consider doing so, telling himself that he could still make something out of this and that he had made the right decision. But, without a high school diploma, _or_ a college degree, it was very rare to find a well paying job.

He had been lucky to even get _this_ job, as it was. They hadn't been hiring at the time, and had it not been for his friend, Connie, he would probably still be out of a job and living with his parents.

This job paid just enough to allow him to pay for his apartment, clothes, and food on his own. Which honestly, what more did a person need? It was a comfortable life, albeit stressful at times, but comfortable none the less.

But still, that didn't stop him from complaining. _Nothing_ stopped Jean Kirschtein from complaining.

"Kirschtein, booths three and five need to be wiped down. Rush hour is about to set in and we're understaffed tonight. We need to be prepared."

Jean rolled his eyes, pushing himself up and away from the bar and stretching his back. "Let me guess, I've got serving duty. _Again_."

"Uhh huh." Franz sounded, counting out some change for a customer and paying him no mind.

"Great." Grabbing the rag that he had earlier discarded onto the counter, he turned, setting off in the direction of the booths, a deep scowl etched into his features.

He was just finishing up with the last booth when the bells above the front door jingled, sounding someone's entrance. Jean straightened up, slinging the cloth over his shoulder, and glanced towards the source of the noise.

Making his way from the front of the bar was a tall, dark haired, freckled man. Jean watched him as he strode purposefully through the room, finally coming to a stop in front of Franz. There was a bright smile adorning his lips as he greeted him, his dark eyes wide and hopeful. Though he was well out of earshot, by the look on the man's face Jean could more or less guess that he was asking about a job.

_Good fucking luck, buddy_, Jean thought sourly, emitting a snort. It had taken Connie weeks on end of pestering Franz to get him his job, and even then he hadn't gotten a call back about it for about another week or so. If he had five bucks to spare on something so stupid, he would have bet that this guy would be leaving without that friendly smile plastered across his face.

Glancing back down at the table he had been working on and away from the exchange, he noticed that he had missed a spot. Huffing in irritation at the speck of dried food, he set back to work, scrubbing furiously at the wooden surface and muttering curses to himself.

So caught up in destroying the fleck of food that was seemingly glued to the table, taunting him, he failed to notice the figure now looming over him. "Hello! Are you Jean?" Jean started, dropping the rag and knocking over an assortment of condiments in his surprise. Jerking his head up in the direction of the voice, amber eyes blazing in irritation, he recognized him as the freckled man from earlier. Before he could get a word out, the man laughed cheerfully, leaning over the table and setting the fallen objects in their more or less proper place. "Sorry about that! I didn't mean to scare you, I just-"

"_You didn't scare me_." Jean snapped, straightening up to become level with freckled nuisance. Though the man was taller than himself, the glare that was pointed in his direction made up for it. He said nothing, opening and closing his mouth a few times, trying and failing for a response to Jean's vehement rudeness. "What do you want?" Jean asked, finally, turning away from the man and bending back over the booth, resuming his mission to rid the table of the damned speck. "And you better speak fast. I'm busy and I have better things to do, _other_ than stand around all day waiting for you to spit it out."

Yes, Jean was being harsh. He knew that. He knew that he should probably lighten up on the guy, seeing as he wasn't the cause of Jean's inner turmoil. But he couldn't help it. He was fed up with this shitty job, and the shitty chores, and the shitty piece of food that would not detach its self from the surface of the table no matter how hard he scrubbed at it. And what's more? He had been called in early this morning to sweep the parking lot free of leaves and clean the glasses from the night prior, seeing as Jaeger decided to skip out on his job _yet again_ to do whatever pains in the asses do. And having not been prepared to be called in early, he hadn't had time to stop for coffee on the way as he usually did, let alone make his own. So, yeah. Though this guy probably didn't deserve the shit attitude that was being thrown in his direction right now, he should have known from just one look to stay out of his path today. Or at least, that was Jean's reasoning on the situation.

"A-ah. Right." The man stuttered out, tugging at the bottom of his shirt to straighten it out. "Well, Franz told me to come find you. It's my first day, so he told me that he would like you to train me." Jean stood up again, arching an eyebrow in his direction. "O-or, at least point me in the right direction of what to do with myself?" He said, his words coming out as a question due to the incredulous look that was being pointed in his direction.

"You got the job? That fast?" He asked, disbelieving.

"What? No, I called in a few weeks ago and asked about it. He told me that he was understaffed and could use all of the help he could get, so I got it." He shrugged, the friendly smile back in place. Jean stared at him, his eyebrows scrunched together. _What the shit._ He basically had to fight tooth and nail to get this job, just barely grabbing it by the skin of his teeth, and this guy calls in _one time_ and lands it? What kind of absolute bullshit was that?

Yeah, now this guy was pissing him off. Snatching the rag from the table, Jean shoved it against the guy's chest, brushing past him in search of Franz. "Training, lesson one; get that fucking piece of food off of the table." He snapped over his shoulder, scowling.

He caught Franz by the arm just as he was making his way out the door and opened his mouth, intent on letting him have a piece of his mind: Where did he think he was going? Where was Jaeger? And just where did he get off hiring someone after just one phone call while everyone else had to work their asses off to get where they were.

Franz's eyebrows shot up as he was jerked to a halt, but when he laid eyes on Jean, he smiled, clapping him on the shoulder. He spoke before Jean could get a word out, cutting off the shit storm Jean was about to incur. "Good news for you, with the new kid here to take over your normal position, you can perform tonight. All you have to do is show him the ropes, and then you can go on." Jean's mouth hung open, suspended mid air as he let that sink in. Ok, so the new guy landing this job wasn't as bad as he had originally thought. The thought of getting to perform after almost a year of not being able to do so due to being understaffed, was enough to raise his mood considerably. Closing his mouth, his expression relaxed, the anger almost visibly melting off of him.

Maneuvering himself out of Jean's grip, Franz shuffled the rest of the way out of the door, turning back to look at him once more. "I'm taking off for awhile, I have somewhere to be. You know the drill; Look after things while I'm gone, keep everything in order, and if I'm not back before closing time, lock up." Not giving him a chance to respond, he slipped all the way out, bells jingling as the door slid to a gentle close. Jean nodded, turning back around, a small smile playing on his lips as he strode back towards the new guy. Maybe this day wasn't as bad as he had made it out to be, after all.

As he neared where the man was standing, he noted that the rag was slung over his shoulder as he leaned against the seat of the booth, gazing out around the room. His expression was glazed over, as if he were deep in thought.

"I thought I told you to clean the table?" He called out as he neared him, his tone considerably lighter than it had been a few moments prior.

The freckled man looked relieved at this as he shifted his dark eyes over to Jean, smiling cheerfully. "Oh, I did. I got the speck you were having trouble with." Jean furrowed his eyebrows together, pushing past him to see for himself. And, just as he had said, the stain was no more. The table gleamed spotlessly in the light above, almost as if to tell him that this guy, who had been here for merely ten minutes, was already doing his job better than him.

Jean emitted a loud sigh, propping a hand on the table. _This guy has been sent here straight from freckled hell just to spite me._ Seeming to notice his irritation at having been one-upped, the man quickly added "But I'd say you got it most of the way off before I got here, what with how hard you were scrubbing at it. There wasn't much left for me to do." Jean glanced sideways at him, saying nothing. _And he's nice. Of course he's nice. "_Anyways, I don't think I introduced myself. I'm Marco." He said, stretching out one tan, lightly freckled hand, his expression warm and friendly.

Jean vaguely considered telling him to fuck off and shove his friendly greetings up his ass, but he knew that he didn't deserve that. As innocently annoying as he was, he meant no harm. He _really was_ just trying to be nice, despite Jean's suspicions towards cheekiness.

Jean shook his outstretched hand after a moment with his own, smiling slightly. "Jean," He said, "Though you already knew that."

Marco's smile grew wider, if that was even possible, causing his eyes to crinkle at the corners. "It's nice to meet you, Jean. I look forward to working with you."

Jean nodded, withdrawing his hand and tucking it in his pocket. "Likewise."

The sound of the bells halted their conversation for the time being, causing Jean to turn, and Marco to look up. His large, dark eyes widened at the sight of the sudden influx of people that were now pouring in through the door, chattering loudly. The sound quickly filled the once quiet bar, causing Jean to grimace. _Here we go._

"Well, Marco," He said, bringing a hand down on the taller mans shoulder as he moved to stand beside him. "Looks like we have a long night ahead of us."

**xxxx**

**Notes:**

**ahh yeah i'm not really sure about this at all. i've never written fic before other than short drabble that went absolutely no where. so i apologize wholeheartedly if this sucks, and if they are not in character. im still trying to figure it all out.**

**i think since it's not very far in yet, im going to continue into the first chapter. be sure to leave reviews and let me know what you think. constructive criticism is welcomed**

**EDIT:**

**i should probably mention that the franz in this fic is not the same franz as in the anime, so if he seemed out of character to you, that is why. **


	2. Faith

1.

Jean was standing to the left, just off stage and out of sight.

As he stood there, leaned against the bricked wall, he gave his guitar a few experimental strums before reaching up to tune it accordingly.

A few hours had passed since the lunchtime rush hour, and it was now winding down towards late evening. Training Marco and filling him in on what his job would consist of had been a more time consuming task than he had originally anticipated. Sooner than he knew it the sun was sinking down just below the bustling Manhattan skyline, fading from a warm, sunny, fall day, to a pink skied, chilly afternoon. A cool, gusting wind had picked up as late evening set it, nipping through the jackets of the people rushing home for the evening.

Spending time with Marco hadn't been as bad as Jean had anticipated it would be. He'd made the day go by that much quicker, and maybe even made it enjoyable. And although Jean would never admit it, he was thankful. Work was miserable for him, it had been ever since the day he'd started, but Marco had made it bearable for him with his cheerful demeanor and endless chattering, asking Jean things ranging from what he did for fun to where he could see himself in ten years. Though Jean feigned annoyance with his freckled coworker, it was a nice change of pace, not being alone. That was something Jean was a lot of.

He didn't really feel that _click_ or... _emotional bond _with anyone, and had never really wanted to. He liked his solitude and the time spent to himself, not having to worry about getting back to anyone or keeping up with them. It had always seemed like too much effort to him. And besides that, no one had ever made an effort to _really_ get to know him, so why should he do the same?

But still, it had been nice, having Marco chatter away at him, and actually be interested in the things that came out of his mouth as a response. Somewhere, in a back part of his mind, he hoped that Marco would stick around, one way or another.

"Jean?" Said man jumped and turned, amber orbs darting in the direction of the voice. A freckled face smiled back at him, his eyes dancing with amusement. _Don't even say it_, Jean warned, narrowing his eyes at him. Marco, seeming to catch on, simply smiled and continued on. "I just wanted to say… good luck out there. Connie told me that this was your first time going on in awhile, so I can imagine that it's a little nerve wracking, but I think that you'll do great." He said, raising his hand to Jean's shoulder and resting it there.

Jean only nodded, slightly taken aback by the sudden words of encouragement. Marco let his arm fall back to his side after a quick squeeze, and yet another one of his warming smiles. Jean turned away with a quiet sigh, making his way to the center of the stage.

It had been awhile since he'd last stood in front of a crowd, so he was actually a bit nervous. But the moment he strummed out a few random notes, trying for everyone's attention, and felt the spot light warm his face, a wave of familiarity and comfort washed over him. He felt at ease; at home.

He looked around at the swarm of customers one last time, his eyes coming to a halt on the far left corner of the room where a certain freckled waiter happened to be standing.

Marco, who was staring back at him from behind the bar, gave him a thumbs up, flashing him one of his goofy smiles. Jean shook his head, smiling slightly before he began to strum, this time picking up a specific rhythm. A few customers scattered around the bar _ooh'ed_, looking on with smiles as they recognized the tune right off. Feeling more confident, he put a bit more gusto behind his strums, the sound of his music filling the bar and drowning out the remaining conversations, most of which had died down the minute he took his seat on the stool.

After taking a moment to clear his throat, Jean drew his face closer to the microphone, a smile curving his narrow lips upwards.

"_Well I guess it would be nice, if I could touch your body. I know not everybody has gotta body like you_."

He felt his heart flutter in excitement as he sang the first few lines, watching as more customers turned their heads in his direction, all eyes now on him. As he continued strumming, he could see more than a few people tapping their feet to the rhythm, or quietly singing along.

"_But I gotta think twice, before I give my heart away. And I know all the games you play, because I play them too_."

His eyes landed on Marco again as he drew away from the mic for a breath. He was leaning against the bar, his chin resting in the palm of his hand, his eyes glued to Jean and a smile stretching across his face. Jean nodded in acknowledgement at him, a smile now dancing across his own lips.

"_Oh, well I need some time off from that emotion. Time to pick my heart up off the floor_."

As Jean's eyes wandered excitedly, something else caught his attention. Standing a little ways behind Marco was none other than Eren Jaeger, smirking back at him. This in itself would have been enough to dampen Jean's mood, had it not been for the dark haired beauty to his left.

"_Oh, when that love comes down, with-out devotion. Well it takes a strong man, baby, but I'm showing you the door_-"

Dark hues locked with amber as he leaned in towards the mic, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of her. She was, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful women he had ever come across. Even from where he was sitting, and in the dim light of the bar, he could make out her breathtaking features. Her face was delicately formed, with large, dark eyes, fringed with black lashes that left him reeling. She stared back at him uninterestedly.

"_C-Cause I gotta have faith_."

_Oh, good job Jean, you absolute shit-stain_, he cursed himself, a bead of perspiration beading on his forehead. He quickly slid his gaze away from the woman; _anywhere_ but that woman. As his eyes darted this way and that, searching for a safe face to rest on, they skimmed over Jaeger's. He was laughing, elbowing Connie in the ribs as he flashed that shit eating grin in his direction. Jean ground his teeth together, swinging his focus back on Marco. _Fuckin' Jaeger, won't be smiling after I get off this stage, I can assure you that._

Marco smiled back at him encouragingly, mouthing for him to '_breathe_'. Jean did just that, after silently thanking him; sucking in a quick breath before slipping right into his next line with the exhale.

"_Ahh, I gotta have faith_."

As his eyes scanned over the now growing crowd, the sound of music having brought more people pouring into the bar, he noted that no one seemed to have noticed his slip up. Either that or they just hadn't cared. Realizing this, he began to relax, making sure to avoid letting his gaze drift back to the woman. Each person was enjoying the music in their own way; either tapping their feet, drumming against the table with their hands, or even singing along cheerfully (some a bit louder than others, due to the excessive amounts of alcohol they had consumed).

"_Because I got to have faith, ah-faith. I've got to have faith, ah-faith, ah-faith, ahh_."

Pausing for a moment, he stopped strumming, letting his fingers hang frozen; suspended mid air. A few people who were unfamiliar to the song glanced up, confused and curious as to why the music and suddenly stopped. But those who knew the song by heart ,as Jean did, were smiling, waiting for what they knew was to come. Marco was among those of which were clueless. His head tilted to the side, his brow knit together in confusion. Jean grinned.

"_Baby!_"

The people who had been initially confused broke into smiles, the others singing along with as much gusto as they could manage, their cheerful voices filling the room.

"_I know you're asking me to stay. Say please, please, please don't go away. You say I'm giving you the blues_."

Jeans eyes unexpectedly found Marco again as he walked in front of one of the people he just so happened to have his gaze on. He was bringing out another round of drinks, balancing the tray precariously on his forearm as he rounded up the table's empty glasses. He looked nervous, his eyes constantly flitting between the wobbling tray and the floor, as though he were expecting it to lose balance and go crashing to the floor at any moment. Though it never did. Jean couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for having been the one to teach him the trick to that.

"_Hah. You mean every word you say, can't help but think of yesterday. And another who tied me down to the lover boy rules_."

After chatting with one of the women at the table for a minute, who had been batting her eyes at Marco rather suggestively (much to his chagrin, and Jean's amusement), he disappeared behind the wooden doors to the kitchen, obscured from Jean's view. Jean couldn't help but feel disappointed, though he had no idea why.

"_Before this river becomes an ocean, before you throw my heart back on the floor_. _Oh, oh baby, I reconsider my foolish notion. Well, I need someone to hold me, but I wait for something more_."

As Jean began to draw the song to a close, he subtly stretched his limbs. They had grown stiff from the slouched position he had been sitting in all this time. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear his mom scolding him. It had basically been branded into his brain after how many times had repeated herself.

Jean just barely managed to suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

"_Yes, I gotta have faith. Ohh, I gotta have faith. Because I gotta have faith, ah-faith, ah-faith. I gotta have faith, ah-faith, ah-faith, ahh_."

Picking up the pace, he began to strum faster, adding in more notes as he went and tapping his foot against the floor to add to the rhythm. A few people in the crowd began to dance in place, making the corners of Jean's lips twitch up. He had forgotten just how much he loved this; performing, and the way people reacted to it. It had always brought a sort of calm and quite to his normally stressful life. He was always the happiest in moments like these, seeing the smiles that his music created. Not that he would ever say any of that out loud. That would sound stupid.

As he drew the song to a close, the round of applause throughout the bar near deafening, he bowed dramatically, causing a few people to laugh. After giving a word of thanks, he retreated from the stage, a small smile forming on his lips.

Xxx

"No, no, I'm telling you man, she was totally hitting on you." Connie slurred, clapping a hand down on Marco's shoulder. Marco rolled his eyes, smiling good naturedly.

It was 12:34, nearly an hour after closing time. Most of the employees, usually _not_ including Jean, would stay after they had closed down to hangout, seeing as they never really got to during the day, it was usually way too busy for idle chatter. Though Connie and Eren usually found a way. Surprisingly enough, Franz never noticed a few missing bottles of whiskey or rum, thank god for them. If he was even slightly more observant, they would have been dead meat by now as this little ritual had been going on for almost two years.

Jean wasn't really sure why he had let himself be dragged into this, seeing as he wasn't particularly close with any of these guys. He told himself it was just because it was Marco's 'welcome to the gang' party, and that he was trying to make it up to the guy after their rocky introduction. After all, he really wasn't a bad guy.

"Maybe. But she was also drunk." Marco reminded.

Connie slapped his hands down onto the surface of the table, nearly knocking over Eren and Jean's drinks in the process. Jean growled a curse in Connie's direction, but it fell on deaf ears. No one was paying attention to him. "So what, man?! You totally could have gotten those digits!"

Marco shrugged, smiling slightly, but looking very uninterested in the topic at hand. "I guess so."

Throwing his head back in exasperation, Connie gave up, bringing his glass up to his mouth to take a drink. Jean followed suit, glancing down at his cup once he had done so. It was nearly empty. Looks like he would be walking home tonight. There was no way in hell he way paying that steep ass fare for a cab just to drive him two blocks. It was fucking ridiculous.

"Hey, Connie, what was that you were saying earlier?" Said man cocked a questioning eyebrow at Eren. "You know, about the game that you downloaded last night. You were telling me about ho…-"

Jean tuned them out them, opting to instead turn and stare out of the window, his cheek resting in the palm of his hand. The glass was starting to fog up, due to the cold, icy air beginning to creep over it from outside. Tiny beads of perspiration began to form; sliding mesmerizingly down once it had filled up with as much moisture as it could hold. As Jean watched, he began to imagine that they were racing, and betting on which bead would reach the bottom before the other. He was on a winning streak when an elbow nudged him in the side.

He turned, meeting Marco's calm, chocolate gaze. This close, Jean could almost make out tiny shapes within the freckles smattered across Marco's cheeks and nose. A square here, a hexagon there, and-

"Jean?"

Jean's eyes darted back up to Marco's. "What?" He replied lamely, his tongue feeling heavy and sluggish in his mouth. Ok, so maybe drinking three glasses of whiskey had not been a good idea. But in his defense, he _usually _had a very good tolerance to alcohol.

"I _said_," Marco began patiently, and Jean realized, pink beginning to dust his cheeks, that Marco must have been talking to him the entire time. And there he had been, staring at his freckles and picking shapes out of them like a complete creep. _Yeah, this is totally a great way to make the guy want to be your friend. Good job, Jean! _"Are you ok? You look upset."

Before he could answer, another voice spoke up, cutting him off. "He's just mad because he fucked up his little performance in front of my sister." Jean jerked his head in Eren's direction, eyes blazing. Marco shifted uncomfortable, eyes flitting between the two.

"Shut the fuck up, Jaeger!"

Said man sat up a little straighter, turquoise eyes gleaming as he leaned forward across the table. "Why don't you come over here and make me, _Horseface_?" There was a moment of tense silence before Jean rose from the booth, hand darting across and making a grab for Eren.

Laughing, Eren ducked under his hand, and slid across Connie and out of the seat, knocking over a few drinks in the process. Gasping, Marco also stood from the booth, along with Connie and Jean, who were now thoroughly doused whiskey.

"Shit!" Jean hissed, holding the bottom of his shirt out and away from his body. "I swear to _fuck_ Jaeger I'm going to k-" As he took a few threatening steps forward, fists clenched, Connie intervened, stepping in between the two. Eren sneered at Jean over Connie's shoulder.

Before Jean could react, Connie spoke. "Marco, mind taking Jean outside? These two idiots and alcohol are not a good combination." Marco quickly agreed, eyes wide, and made a move to take Jean's arm. Jean jerked away, giving Eren one last dark look before turning away.

"I can get there myself." He snapped as he yanked open the door, stepping outside and letting the icy night air envelop him. Marco followed shortly after, closing the door quietly behind him.

The only sound between them for a few moments was their quiet breaths, and the sounds of nightlife being emitted from the city surrounding them; the whir of electricity, cars honking, a jet flying just over head, and from somewhere or another, a train winding its way along the outskirts.

Closing his eyes, Jean exhaled heavily through his nose, trying clearing his alcohol hazed mind. The now near freezing material that was clinging to his skin was becoming a bit uncomfortable, but like hell he would go back in there with _Jaeger_. _Stupid fuck, why is he the one that gets to sit inside in the warm bar, probably talking shit and laughing about me with Connie? _Jean clenched his fists, his jaw flexing in anger. _But still, who would have thought that the idiot would have such a divine goddess for a sister? Maybe I should start playing a little nicer… get to know her._ Jean thought on this for a moment before uttering a short, bitter laugh. _Fuck that_.

He had almost completely forgotten about Marco's presence, until he felt a warm hand come down on his shoulder. His eyes opened, honeyed sliding to the right, looking the freckled man over with curiosity. He gazed back, his lips drawn into a tight line. "_What_?"

"You're shaking."

"_Yeah_, it's fucking cold."

Marco looked away for a moment and removed his hand, appearing slightly taken back by his harsh tone. Jean bit his lip, looking forward again and crossing his arms against his chest, trying to suppress his shuddering. _I'm such an asshole. _"Well," Marco began, pausing for a moment and seeming to think over his words. "do you have a jacket or anything inside? I could get it for you if you want." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, motioned back towards the bar.

Jean glanced sideways at him. Why was he being so nice to him? This guy barely knew him, and he definitely hadn't made a good first impression on him. He'd done nothing but make a complete ass out of himself in the ten or eleven hours since they'd met. It didn't make sense to him at all. He didn't deserve it. "I don't have one."

Marco's brows scrunched together in confusion, his nose crinkling. "You don't have a _jacket_? _At all_?" He asked incredulously.

Jean rolled his eyes, not able to contain his slight laughter at Marco's expression. "No, idiot. I don't have a jacket _inside_."

With Jean's laugher, the tension seemed to shatter, fading away almost instantly. Marco smiled at the sound, looking down and scuffing his shoe against the pavement. "Oh, duh."

A small smile still tugging at the corners of his lips, he raised his hands to his face, cupping them in front of his mouth and breathing a bit into them. It probably wouldn't have been so cold outside, had it not been for the sharp gusts of icy wind that would rush past them, biting at them through their clothes and sending them shivering. The corners of Jean's lips turned down slightly as he stared out into chilly night, blowing another gust of warm air into his hands. _I wish it was summer_.

Suddenly, something warm was being draped around his shoulders. Jean flinched, whipping his head around. Marco was in the process of pulling his _own_ jacket around Jean, a light smile on his lips. Jean noticed that Marco's nose was red, and judging by the sounds he was making, it was beginning to run as well. His usually tanned cheeks were likewise tinged with color, but Marco didn't seem to mind at all. Catching Jean's eye as he finally managed to get the jacket to stay in place, his eyes became questioning at the look of chagrin flashing across his face. "Your face is awfully red, Jean. Maybe we should go ins-"

"I'm fine." Jean said, turning his head away from Marco to hide his now burning cheeks. This guy was now, quite literally, giving him the clothes right off of his back. "And take your damn jacket back. You're going to get sick." He said, shrugging the jacket from around his shoulders and holding it out.

Marco was beginning to seem selfless, and not in the good sense of the word. One of those people that wore themselves thin giving out so much to others, that they didn't have anything left to give themselves. Jean had never understood those types of people, all you have in the end is yourself, so you have to watch your own back and be there for yourself, yeah? Not go around being a fucking door mat, letting people wipe their filthy feet all over you just for their own good. How would that make any fucking sense?

Marco shook his head, laughing. "I'm fine; you were the one who was shaking! Keep it. You can give it back to me tomorrow."

Jean, growing exasperated, pushed the jacket further forward and against his chest. "Just take it, it isn't an argument. I don't need it."

Marco smiled, taking Jean's hand in his own and pushing it back and away from him. "I know that it's not an argument," he said, releasing his hand. "So why don't you just go ahead and put it on."

Jean and Marco stared each other down for a moment; Jean narrowing his eyes into slits, and Marco grinning innocently. Finally, letting out a string of curses, Jean slipped back into the jacket, shoving his arms through the arm holes and yanking it down into place. Zipping it up in an overly dramatic fashion, and thanking god that it didn't get stuck in the process, he spread out his arms, gesturing to himself. "Happy?"

"Very much so." Jean shook his head as he turned to watch a car pass them by, nearly blinding them both with its headlights.

Marco's jacket was warm, and Jean found himself sinking lower into it and absorbing as much of its heat as he could. But the further he sunk, the more distinct a certain aroma was becoming. It was hard to place, because it wasn't one thing specifically, but many scents mixed all into one. It was a scent of warmth and homeliness, emitting a sort of calm over Jean. It smelled vaguely of chamomile and cedar, and maybe just a touch of… lavender? He couldn't really be sure.

"Better?" Marco asked, his voice shattering through Jean's musings. Jean glanced over at him, nodding, the hint of a smile ghosting over his lips.

"Yeah."

Marco gave him a wry smile, opening his mouth to speak, when his phone began to vibrate from within the front pocket of his jeans. Shifting slightly, he dug his phone out and squinted at the excessively bright screen. Jean looked forward again, tilting his head back to gaze at the night sky; dusky purple fading to midnight blue, lightly dusted with stars. Wisps of gray clouds swept across the sky, passing swiftly across the luminous moon and stars. A gust of frigid fall air snuck its way up and under the confines of Marco's jacket, which Jean was clutching tightly against himself, and he shivered. It had gotten so cold, so fast, almost without warning. It seemed like barely a week ago that Jean had been complaining about the heat.

Exhaling, Jean watched as the white cloud of vapor ascended above him, before dissipating completely into the atmosphere. Within a few seconds, another breath followed. And another. By the time Jean had counted five breaths, watching as they vanished a few inches above him, Marco spoke up.

"Hey, I have to go. I have somewhere to be in the morning before work, so I can't really be out all night."

Jean nodded, pulling his hands into the pockets of the jacket. As much as he didn't want to give it back, as he would be walking home in the cold soon, he felt inclined to. This guy had been nothing but nice to him from the get-go, and like fuck he was going to take advantage of his kindness. He didn't deserve that, if anything he deserved to be repaid for all of the kindness he had shown Jean today, despite how much of an asshole Jean had come off as. He still wasn't really sure why that was. But, regardless of his reasons, Jean was going to return the favor.

"Alright. Hey, uh, Marco?"

Marco had been turning to leave, but twisted around again, his eyes questioning. "Yes, Jean?" Jean opened his mouth, hand already gesturing down at the jacket. But before he could get a word out, Marco spoke again, cutting him off. "And this _better_ not be about the jacket again." Though his tone was (playfully) threatening, he was smiling warmly, his eyes gleaming due to the florescent street light hanging overhead.

Jean laughed, releasing another burst of white vapor, and put his hands up defensively. "Alright, alright, point taken. I was just trying to be nice."

Marco tilted his head, feigning a look of surprise. "Jean Kirschtein? _Nice_? Impossible." Jean scowled, amber eyes narrowing, though he was fighting a smile. In all honesty, if anyone but Marco had said that to him, he probably would have hit them. But he just couldn't seem to bring himself to being _actually_ angry with him, no matter how much of a cheeky little shit he was being at the moment.

"I can be _nice_." He replied with a scoff, crossing his arms over his chest as another surge of chilly wind ripped through the city. The temperature was dropping like a rock, and he was _not_ looking forward to walking home in this shit and freezing his balls off. At least standing here they were, some-what, blocked from the wind, due to the bar and the direction of the air currents.

What he _was_ looking forward to, though, was getting home, kicking off his shoes, and crawling into his warm bed and snuggling in for the night and finally, _finally_, drifting off to sleep. He could almost hear it calling his name. "I know," Marco's soft voice drug Jean out of his daydream of warm sheets and soft pillows, snapping him back to reality. "I was kidding, don't look so grumpy." Jean rolled his eyes, a smile fighting it's way to his lips despite his efforts to stop it. Marco smiled back at him, practically beaming. _This guy._ "That's more like it."

"Yeah, yeah. Congratulations, you made me smile. Now go on, you moron. You're going to freeze to death." Marco didn't need to be told twice. Giving Jean a wave and shouting a farewell over his shoulder, he made his way across the parking lot and towards a white ford focus.

Smiling to himself and drawing himself deeper into the jacket, he began to walk, intent to make it home as quickly as possible.

Marco… Marco wasn't half bad. Sure, he was a little too nice, irritably so at times, and he seemed to not have very much regard for his own welfare, but there was just something about him that Jean liked.

Stepping over a parking curb and onto the side walk on the other side, Jean turned right and began the long, soon to be miserably cold, trek home. Almost instantly the icy air was on him, rushing past him and blowing his shaggy ash-brown hair up and away from his forehead. Shoving his chin down into the collar of the jacket as not to expose his throat to the cold, he frowned. He didn't usually take a liking to people this quickly. Hell, he didn't usually take a liking to people _period_. It was as unnatural to him as common sense was to Eren. So, maybe… Maybe Marco's friendliness was all an act. Maybe underneath that kind façade, he was really just as foul as everyone else Jean had ever met.

He'd known people like that before; people who fooled everyone around them in to thinking that they were this caring, warmhearted individual, and then using that same innocent mask that they had created to do whatever they wanted, without anyone suspecting a thing.

_Like murdering people_.

….Yeah, Jean was an avid Criminal Minds fan.

Still, the point remained; This freckled man could be deceiving him. Very few people in his life had actually managed to befriend him, and it had usually been on one of his better days- And today was most definitely _not_ one of his better days. Suspicion and conspiracy theories began battling over his murky, tired mind, and he almost didn't notice the car pulling over right next to him.

Light washed over his tall, wiry form, illuminating him against the darkness. Turning and squinting against the glare of the headlights he cupped his hands over his eyes in attempt to discern whether or not he knew the driver, or if he should start running. He'd seen one too many episodes that had played out exactly like this…

The car came to a stop a few feet in front of him, and Jean was instantly doused with a cold wave of relief as a familiar dark haired head poked out of the passenger side window. "Jesus Christ, Marco. You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same thing." He countered, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. His lips were pressed together in a small, displeased line. He was the precise image of a parent who was about to give their child the scolding of a lifetime, and Jean nearly laughed.

"I'm walking home, what does it look like?"

"You could have asked if you needed a ride."

"Marco, I'm a big boy. I can walk myself home just fine, I-"

"It's freezing out, Jean, and the nearest apartment complex is almost five miles from here. You couldn't seriously have been planning to walk all that way with nothing but a thin jacket on." Jean didn't answer; he only stood, staring at Marco impassively, his arms folded across his chest. This was beginning to feel a bit too similar to his mother nagging him about poor decisions regarding his welfare, and Jean didn't know whether to laugh, have his heart warmed, or tell him to fuck off and worry about himself.

Sighing, Marco shifted, running a hand through his dark, now messy, hair. "Just get in the car." As Jean opened his mouth to protest, fed up with Marco's attempts of coddling him, Marco silenced him with one raised finger, an exhausted look on his face. "I don't care to drive you home, but I don't want to have an argument about it; I'm too tired. It will be nice to have someone to talk to, anyway. So, please, Jean, let me drive you home."

He wasn't sure what it was, maybe it was the whiskey fucking with his judgment, but something about those last few words caused a tugging sensation in his chest, leaving him momentarily off balance. The words themselves had been simple enough, a mere request, but it was the underlying meaning beneath them that had caused a sudden warmth to spread throughout his upper body.

He had never really been accustomed to people going out of their way for him, or really even caring enough to do so; but then he met Marco. This warm, good-natured, cheeky little shit who absolutely _refused_, even after only a day, to let Jean wallow in his misery. It was as if he had made it his own personal mission to pull Jean out of the cold, isolated ditch he had thrown himself in, and shroud him in the warmth and light that he almost seemed to radiate. He-

"Jean?" Bringing himself back down to earth, he realized that Marco was staring at him, his dark eyes questioning. He didn't know how long he had stood there, lost in his own thoughts, but he would have been willing to bet that it was long enough for Marco to question his competence.

Blinking a few times, Jean shook the dumbfounded expression off his face best he could and took a few shuffling steps forward. "Alright." He mumbled, reaching for the door handle. Marco, seeming elated that Jean had given in without much fuss, smiled and scooted back into the driver's side to make room for him.

The car's warmth enveloped him almost the second he closed the door, and he sighed in relief, settling against the cushiony seats of the car. He had almost forgotten how tired he was, thanks to all the excitement of the night. But now, nestled in the warm safety of Marco's car, he could feel his lids growing heavy, and his heart rate slowing. Breathing in deeply, he allowed a small, languid smile to crawl to his lips.

Marco noticed, laughing quietly to himself before pulling out from the curb he had parked beside. Jean forced his eyes all the way open at the sound of Marco's voice, fighting internally with himself for a moment before spitting out a quiet: "Marco?"

"Mm?" Marco hummed as he brought the car to a stop under a red light, his eyes trailing after a few drunkards, stumbling their way along the sidewalk. Jean could tell he was tired, too, maybe even exhausted. His eyes were weary, the brightness usually shining in them dimmed considerably. His hair was messy; a few tuffs sticking straight up here and there, while his bangs hung limply over his forehead, and his clothes were more than a little rumpled. It had been a hard first day on him, and it was showing. _And yet here he is, driving my ass home._

"Thanks." He managed, turning his head to gaze out the window awkwardly. _I am so shit at this._

Jean could see Marco turn his head in his direction from the corner of his eye, a silent question in the air. But after a moment, he seemed to understand, and smiled softly to himself; unbeknownst to Jean.

"You're welcome."

**xxxx**

**Notes:**

**WOW im super sorry this took so long, thank you for being patient! so much credit to my friend sara for helping me out on this chapter. i got stuck so many times, so it would be absolute shit without her. **

**anyways yeah i hope you enjoyed it and all that jazz and i'll try to have the next chapter up asap! **


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